


mirror my malady

by chromaberrant



Series: shades of reed [dbh oneshots] [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26751859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chromaberrant/pseuds/chromaberrant
Summary: RK900's got an itch he cannot scratch.(a.k.a. it's hard to be a sub when you were built to rip tanks apart. some things deviancy cannot help.)———little ficlet for your teasing pleasure. rated M for mentions of BDSM and general implied horniness rather than onscreen action, f.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Series: shades of reed [dbh oneshots] [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887745
Comments: 6
Kudos: 64





	mirror my malady

**Author's Note:**

> if i hear one more yell of 'happy spooktober' or variation thereof im gonna kermit inadvisable actions
> 
> but yeah i appreciate the season of things that go bump in the night, so here's a lil awoo for y'all. got a dozen things in the works so I decided against taking this one past the fade-to-black. 
> 
> title form _wolf like me_ by tv on the radio bc it slaps. and if i ever write an actual werewolf fic i'll probably steal lines from it again. >:D (also check out [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BNKXBaIKIUE) timeless mashup if you haven't, makes me howl)

Nines is an apex predator in engineered form. Too fast, too skilled to go down in a fight against pretty much any human. Equipped with the looks and the demeanor to cow any criminal or enemy soldier getting in his face, he... really can't help the way he comes off to people — large and in charge.

It's... a lot, sometimes. Always being looked up to, challenged and expected to never back down. For a deviant who's had little more than a month to settle into a job in law enforcement, it's too much, even.

When Nines discovers sexuality, he quickly learns topping and dominating don't really do it for him, but there simply isn't doms or equipment strong enough to really restrain him like he craves. He can limit himself, but that still puts _him_ in control, places the responsibility for his strength on _him._

(He doesn’t enjoy being in debt almost the moment he starts receiving a salary, but, well. The broken frames and torn bindings in dungeons won’t replace themselves.)

(He’s lucky enough to come to an agreement with the owner of the place, and be allowed to work off what he owes by servicing the clients who saw the damage he did and asked if he could restrain _them._ )

Nines thinks that’s it, he won’t be forced down until his joints rust and his synthetic muscles break apart. His build, the best and last Cyberlife ever produced, can only by topped by an industrial hydraulic press, and there are few lovers Nines can think of that would be less desirable. He holds down the TR400s and bodybuilders seeking the rush of submission, and goes home to his little shoebox apartment to dream of a partner stronger than him in fruitless repetition. It is frustrating. It is lonely. And yet, he cannot stop.

The dissatisfaction hounding him becomes his new normal. He grows used to the itch like it’s a background process natural to his system; deviancy, he has found, resulted in quite the number of such phenomena, and there is precious little he can do about the wants and emotions he is free to experience. He counts himself lucky to have a job that provides a distraction and a framework to submit himself to, even if only on the most superficial level. It’s barely enough, but it is something.

That is... Until he goes to fetch his coworker, Gavin Reed, for a case one evening. It's Gavin's day off, but Nines is high strung and seeking some relief in the only way he knows how — by chasing the high of a mission accomplished, solving cases, capturing a perp — and he knows Gavin is as much a workaholic as him. Better yet, the irascible human is a self-destructive jackass on top of that, so even if he refuses to work with Nines, chances are very good that he won’t shy away from throwing a punch. Win-win, as far as Nines is concerned.

He ruminates on the sad rut his life has slumped into so soon after activation on the drive out to Gavin's address. The man lives in a small house on the outskirts of Detroit, near a forest — not what Nines expected, but he's not here to ponder the life choices of his partner.

What he isn't expecting is total silence when he knocks on the door. He can hear Gavin's phone inside when he calls, but little else — the house is unusually low-tech for the times and construction age. Nothing Nines can tap wirelessly to steal a glimpse inside. 

_Smart man._

Nines walks to the back porch, looking through windows. The house is dark, with no heat signatures he can detect — ah, no. A large, scruffy cat watches Nines stalk through the tall grass with glowing yellow eyes. It snorts its dismissal when Nines stops at the back door, and ambles inside the house through a hatch in the porch window.

Nines analyzes the environment out of habit.

His thirium starts to pump faster when he spots claw marks.

Not the cat's, they are much too large to come from the pet. Internet connection is patchy, this far out, but within less than a minute Nines is sure there must be a very large predator regularly at Gavin Reed’s back door. Are there bears in southeast Michigan—?

Then—the world spins. 

Perhaps if he were flesh and blood, the product of millions of years of evolution, Nines would have stood a chance of reacting in time — but no part of him could have done a single thing to defend himself when a massive hand clasped the back of his neck and threw him across the yard. He sees the back porch fly from under him, and for a second he can do nothing but gape at the full moon and countless stars above as he sails through the air like a ragdoll.

He slams into a tree hard enough to rattle his gyroscope and send bark flying. He doesn’t have enough time to reorient himself before he is pinned to the ground, and a massive wolf with a familiar scar is nosing at him. There's a warning growl reverberating deep in the creature's chest, but his eyes are far too inquisitive and present to belong to a beast driven by instinct alone.

"Gavin?" he asks, just to be sure. His voice is laced with static, the only thing betraying his excitement.

He gets a swipe of a rough tongue across one cheek in response, and the wolf pulls back with a very, _very_ toothy grin. The growl becomes something like a deep, rumbling laugh, bizarrely familiar.

_Oh,_ Nines thinks. He can feel his system spin up to a delighted frenzy, and does nothing to stop or even examine it. He is distantly aware that any other person would be fearing for their life, scrabbling for explanation. Fighting back, perhaps, fruitless as the effort would be: he tests the grip of clawed, padded hands on his forearms, and finds they do not budge.

Nines... Nines sags into the ground, exhaling overheated air.

He bares his throat and matches the werewolf's grin.


End file.
